FINE POINT: A look at the week in Washington

Many American presidents have dealt with loss

WASHINGTON — When John Edwards and his wife, Elizabeth, smiled gamely for the TV cameras last week while revealing the tragedy of her recurrence of cancer, vowing to be "tough" and to bull forward "strongly" with his presidential campaign, no shortage of people had the predictable reaction: How could they go on?

Doug Wead, the author of two books on presidential families, saw it another way: How could they not? Indeed, as Wead's research bears out, profound personal loss is surprisingly common among American presidents and in many ways has served as an unlikely source of motivation and resolve.

FOR THE RECORD - This story contains corrected material, published March 27, 2007.

The fact that the Edwardses have had more than their share of heartbreak--their first child, Wade, died as a teenager in an auto accident in 1996--may only serve to push them more deeply into public life.

John Edwards, a successful trial lawyer, former senator from North Carolina and running mate of John Kerry in 2004, pointedly refuses to talk about Wade in a "political context." Elizabeth Edwards has written about Wade's death in her book about her battle with cancer, but she rarely talks about it in public.

Now both of them are saying that they will live in the most public way with the private turmoil that the couple must feel in dealing with a disease that, for her, is inoperable, not curable and merely treatable.

They say they will maintain the breakneck schedules a modern campaign demands as well as withstand its unceasing glare. Rather than hurt, the rigors of the presidential campaign may in the end help.

"I have chills go down my spine when I see this stuff," said Wead, whose "All the Presidents' Children: Triumph and Tragedy in the Lives of America's First Families" offers portraits of presidential families.

"It just happens all throughout history. There's some mystery here, of course, with deaths related to presidents ... but the reactions are so similar. ... The loss of a child or wife or sibling is so painful that there is a certain liberation or freedom: `Nothing else can hurt me.'"

Abraham Lincoln once told his former law partner William Herndon that the death of his son Eddie prompted his return to public life. And another son, Willie, died while Lincoln was in office (this sentence as published has been corrected in this text).

The only two children of William McKinley died before he took office. His wife, Ida, suffered from epilepsy and was prone to seizures, living much of her adult life as an invalid. Yet the affection McKinley showered on her "was part of the charm that helped elect him," Wead said. When McKinley was shot by an assassin, before he died he reportedly said, "Please don't tell Mrs. McKinley."

John and Jacqueline Kennedy lost a child. So did George and Barbara Bush when daughter Robin died of leukemia at age 4, an event that also had a profound impact on her older brother, George W.

Thomas Jefferson carried a hair from a deceased child in a locket until the day he died. William Henry Harrison outlived five grown children before himself dying a month after taking office, in the shortest presidency.

Rachel Jackson, wife of Andrew Jackson, died before he took office as well, apparently riven by depression over disclosures that she had not secured an official divorce from her first husband, who had abandoned her. Jackson blamed his political opponents. "In the presence of this dear saint, I can and do forgive all of my enemies," Jackson said, according to the biography "Field of Honor." "But those vile wretches who have slandered her must look to God for mercy."

Franklin and Jane Pierce had three children, two of whom died. Pierce's wife blamed his involvement in politics for the deaths, so he left public life to practice law. Later, he was encouraged to return to save the Democratic Party, and he went on to win the White House. Their third child died in a train accident two months before his inauguration.

So the Edwardses in many ways are not an exception but follow a curious pattern of the lives of many presidents.

"They call it the Kennedy curse, but what I have found is that it is the curse of power and acclaim," said Wead, noting that an astounding 23 of 43 presidents had to deal with the death of a child.

"I don't mean this to be critical at all, but there's almost a relief like Lincoln's," Wead said of the Edwardses' plight. "To be lost in public life and to be running for office can be less painful than to face the objects and the routines and the friends who remind them of the pain. To be in public is to be alone."